


The Man Clutches the Microphone

by Framlingem



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Framlingem/pseuds/Framlingem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't trust what you hear on the radio these days. Something is wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Clutches the Microphone

  
The man clutches the microphone  
Somewhere, there is snow -  
not here, though,  
except that once.  
We're not sure that was snow.  
We expected an earthquake, and instead  
there were white piles of... something...  
in the Arby's kitchen.  
(static static static help static)  
  
There might be snow in the school board offices,  
glowing snow under the desk.  
Nobody remembers.  
(buzz buzz crackle oh god help)  
The last school board meeting would have been Wednesday.  
Nobody went. They can't trust the radio.  
Nobody has seen Station Management in days,  
since the man with the tie arrived  
and locked the door.  
  
And now the weather.  
Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody.  
He gestures and the disc changes.  
The deeper you go the higher you fly  
The higher you fly the deeper you go.  
Sorry about the mixup, listeners.  
  
The traffic report: Traffic is terrible.  
The secret police have cordoned off the radio station.  
They're terrible at keeping secrets,  
those flashing lights are just terrible.  
Uniforms are a terrible way to keep a secret.  
Is that, like, polyester? Ugh.  
He says they're frantic  
behind frosted glass, but not struggling much  
anymore.


End file.
